Page 56 of Moonlit Hideaway
“Now, you grab something from the minibar while I change.” She affected a slight Southern twang as she took her makeup bag and stage attire into the bathroom.
Once inside the luxurious bathroom, she stared at her pink cheeks and felt the rush of excitement energizing her. Hank was not only accepting her life as a pop star but embracing it. She’d put on the best performance she could without a band or backup singers. If she could convert Hank into her number one fan, maybe he would travel with her and allow Emma to sing and tour with her.
Carefully, she applied her dazzling makeup, sprinkling glitter over her face, and put on her flashy attire. Minutes later, she emerged like a butterfly from her chrysalis, twirling around and shaking her booty to the beat inside her head.
Hank’s hearty claps and the way his appreciative gaze embraced her had her bursting with energy.
“Woo-hoo! Let’s get this show going.” She jumped on the bed, belting the opening lines to “Neon Heartbeat.” She pretended to play the guitar, hearing everything in her mind as she danced with wild abandon, wiggling and twisting, while her song flowed through her.
As the song reached its crescendo, Sierra sank to her knees, hands raised dramatically as she hit the big finale note. Hank burst into enthusiastic applause, just like her father had done for her first performance.
“Bravo.” He got up on his knees and raised his hands toward her in adulation. “That was amazing. You’re incredible.”
She sank down on the mattress into his arms. Her heart was full that he appreciated her and loved her performance, but more than that, she’d given him a taste of her life, and he was now a part of it.
“You liked it, didn’t you?” Her heart thrilled at the emotions surging through her veins—of acceptance and electricity. Passion and a chance to share the future. “Can you imagine multiplying this by ten thousand? Thousands of hearts beating together, immersed in the rhythm and the songs resonating throughout a stadium?”
“What we have here, together, is more than ten thousand. We have this unmooring of letting loose, like we’re jumping off a cliff together. It’s exhilarating.” His gaze was intense, almost feverish. “I can almost feel how it is for you to be up there, like a hurricane gaining energy over hot water, the crowd feeding your strength.”
“It’s how I turned stage fright or fear into a force larger than myself. I lose myself in the music and the performance. It’s like I’m possessed by the performance.”
“I’m possessed by you.” His eyes darkened as he lowered his mouth to hers, breathing heavily with want and desire. “I’m alive again because of you.”
And somehow, her lips were consumed with his like her life was consumed and being consumed, and nothing outside of them mattered. The sting. The disguise. Even Agent Patterson.
All night, from the moment they left Hattokwa, they had been leading up to this. To abandoning fears and findingcompleteness. The smoldering sweetness igniting with the flashing lights and driving beats she sensed in his heart.
And the sweetness.
So sweet.
Because he cared.
He loved her mouth with such tenderness that tears leaked from her eyes. Slowly and seductively, he lowered her and covered her with his hard but warm body. She wanted his hands on her and hers on him. Of being in the arms of this man. Of sheltering underneath his protective arms and letting the pleasure of his touch sizzle through her.
Loving the weight of his body over hers, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him closer. She wanted him—all of him, and just like he’d accepted and shared her electric experiences and the pulsing lifestyle she lived, she, too, would love and embrace his island and the storms, his family, and all that he had to share with her.
She wasn’t afraid of losing herself to him because he was already lost in her.
He’d given her more than she’d ever gotten. More than being a star or having everything money could buy. He and his mother, and Emma and her pet pig had taught him that life was to be lived and loved—from moment to moment.
Belonging. Belonging to him.
Chapter Twenty
The morning after, or in this case, the morning continued.
Hank lay on his side, gazing at Sierra’s sleeping form. A few renegade curls fell across her cheek, and he resisted the urge to brush them aside. Her face was relaxed, and she breathed evenly, looking so lovely and yet so young and vulnerable.
It was hard to believe the transformation, literally, from the dazzling pop star full of energy just hours before to the angelic sweetheart lying at his side on the plush hotel bed. She’d turned his world upside down, and his heart ached at how much she meant to him. Could he marry her and build a life with her? Start a family with little ones running through the inn while Emma played big sister and doted on them?
As wonderful as his fantasies were, a knot of anxiety kept him grounded.
Her world was one of glitz and glamour, not sleepy seaside towns. Now that he’d seen the energy and tasted the megawatt power of a superstar performance, how could he ever expect her to be happy tending bar at the inn or hosting trivia nights and potlucks? The lure of the stage would always call to her, forever pulling her back to the lights and applause.
The peace of morning times was fertile ground.
If only he could freeze this calm and quiet moment, suspend the time before he had to face reality. Leaning over, he softly kissed Sierra’s forehead and wondered how it was that God had dropped this fascinating woman in his lap.
